Over
by LoveChilde
Summary: Years in the future, it's finally over. Warning- character death, slash and nastiness.


Over 

(A/N: Third in a series, the first of which is the surprise crossover on this very site, and the second is 'Never Hurt', too high rated to be here and thus to be found on adultfanfiction.net under the username Gills. This one can be read without the other two, but might be harder to understand. They all belong to Rowling, and this entire fic is centered on the hope that Snape makes it past the sixth book, which I suspect he won't. Contains m/m, character death and bad, bad language, you have been warned.)

"It's over, Lucius."

The silence stretched tighter and tighter, and finally he could take it no longer and continued. "It's been over…for a while, actually. I-I couldn't come to tell you."

"They wouldn't let you?" The blond, still beautiful man rasped, voice hoarse after years of silence, "Or were you scared?"

"I was ill, for a long time after. Not too seriously, but they wouldn't let me out of bed." It was odd how, after twenty years, this still felt more right than anything he did every single day. Talking to him again, now that they were both too tired, too broken to keep up the pretence.

"Aurors got confused?" The same mocking tone he remembered, uncowed despite everything that had happened, "Misinformed? Decided to take revenge for seven years of abuse?"

"Hardly." The man could still destroy any calm he worked so hard to maintain, all his walls. He said more than he meant to, "Cursed by my own 'brothers' when even the denser ones realized I was working against them rather than with them." He hadn't quite seen who it was, exactly, with Unforgivables flying hard and fast, but it had certainly come from _behind_, or he would've ducked out countered it.

"Good." A gleam of satisfaction in cold, tired, empty eyes, "You deserved it, Sev."

"Yes." He agreed calmly, composed again, "I did."

Silence again, for a long time. Lucius surrendered first- Severus was, after all, content to sit there and simply watch him and not feel threatened anymore. The worst had already happened. The lack of fear was still almost intoxicating.

"Where am I, Sev?" An innocent question, loaded with meaning for those two. Severus sucked in his breath sharply.

"They haven't told you? You've been here weeks, months, and they haven't told you?"

"Who would tell me? Nobody comes, nobody answers when I call. Food and water appear, the lights dim or brighten as my captors see fit." Lucius shrugged, bones showing sharply under the thin material of his shirt and under skin made almost translucent. "At first I was too…relieved to ask. Then the point became moot." That he'd only hesitated for a second before admitting that said more of his mental state than anything they'd told him.

"You're deep under the ministry, in the holding cells nobody's used in centuries. After the Dementors left, someone finally realized Azkaban wasn't nearly as effective anymore, but it wasn't until after the fighting began that the moved you here- just to make sure no one tried to break you out."

"Thoughtful of them." A thin attempt at a smile. "I noticed the sudden lack of soul sucking fiends- they all joined the Master, I take it?"

Severus winced visibly at the title, "Yes. Took quite a fight to subdue them. Lost several aurors. If there are any left, they are deep in the Forbidden forest, or out of the British Isles by whatever means." He tried to smile as well but failed, "They didn't help Him much, after all the effort it took to get them. Completely out of control. They killed Nott without any provocation, and almost gave the Kiss to Crabbe- I think there wasn't much there to take, so they left him." Severus didn't know if the snort that followed was a laugh or a sob- both possibilities scared him. He collected himself, pulled his mind back to the presence, to Lucius. "You're looking…" Not good. Terrible, in fact. Thin, hollow faced, deep shadows under eyes that had lost some spark of life. The gray hairs didn't show in the white blond, but Severus knew they were there. Definitely not good, "Alive, which is better than I thought."

"You've always been direct. I liked it, once. Although I wish I could say the same for you- you look like death warmed over, and barely that."

"I know." He could have been Lucius' mirror image- he'd lost weight during his illness, and signs of it still showed in his face. Time, war and constant stress had not been kind. "But still, I'm alive. Many others are not."

"Who?"

The list went on and on. Schoolmates, age-mates, children, students at Hogwarts and those barely out of it. Teachers, aurors, friends. He recited the names dispassionately, knowing them by heart after too many memorial services. He couldn't mourn for them- most had known what they were going into in that final battle.

Lucius blinked at some of the names, went even paler at others. As the list grew longer, he held his breath without noticing until his chest hurt, then let it out explosively when it ended. "Narcissa, and, and Draco?" He asked in a whisper, showing the first bit of emotion since Severus came in.

"Alive, and living in London. Narcissa complains bitterly about your confiscated holdings, but with Black gone and Tonks disinherited, she's the only heir to the Black family fortune. They're quite well off. Draco…he fought on Dumbledore's side, Lucius. He still hates everything we stand for, and I know he misses you terribly, but he's enough of a Malfoy to know which side is going to win, at least." Snape replied gently, with only the faintest trace of pride in the boy. Draco hadn't spoken to him in months. Not since he'd discovered Snape was a double agent and switched sides. "He was Prefect in sixth year as well."

Lucius' face twisted into a mask of something between fury and hatred, anger and guilt and a longing so terrible it hurt to watch. He regained control over himself after a moment and cleared his throat, passed a hand across his eyes. "You can sit down, Severus." He jerked his head at the bed he was sitting on, the only other piece of furniture in the room being a low table. "They're alive, at least." He took a deep breath, while Snape waited, knowing he couldn't intrude, no matter how much he wanted to. "The Master?"

"Gone." One word, so simple. Freedom, for those who wanted it; desolation for those who still truly believed. Fortunately, both men had stopped believing many years before.

"Good." Lucius cleared his throat again, "Potter, or Dumbledore?"

"In the end, I suspect it was both. I was…unconscious. I heard the story later. It seems Dumbledore somehow funneled his own magic, and that of-" he still didn't believe it, even after hearing it from a dozen people, "the Longbottom boy, of all people, through Potter's wand, and that broke the Ma- Voldemort's power for good. He turned the killing curse on himself, not wanting to be caught after he realized his big attack was turning into a rout." That was the official story, at least. Most of it was even true, Snape supposed. He'd probably never know.

Lucius almost looked sad. "It's over, then."

"Yes. They-" Snape grimaced, "cleaned out the last nest, as the aurors say, last week. All known Deatheaters are captured or killed, populating the cells around you, in fact. You're in good company."

"I'm sure." Dryly. Lucius sighed, looking at the bare room and at his visitor. "Why you, Sev?"

"I asked to come." The younger man, feeling anything but young, replied simply. "I thought you'd want to know."

Lucius didn't comment. The silence went on for hours it seemed, each busy in his own mind. Finally, he stretched and continued. "So now what? Did they bother to tell you that?"

"I don't know." Severus shrugged. "I suppose they'll start trials for some of them, but you've already had yours- or have you?"

"What do you think?" Lucius snapped bitterly. "Not that I don't know what they're accusing me of, but being sent to Azkaban without fair trial-"

"Is hardly something either of us should be surprised at, by now. It happens, Lucius, far more often than the ministry admits. And you know something, I don't think there'll be a trial, ever."

Lucius reared back s if slapped, his eyes wide. "They can't. My family- they'll fight! Even now, the Malfoy name has some pull in the wizarding world."

"Less than you think." Severus argued emotionlessly. He was here to lay facts down, not to offer comfort he had no right to offer. "With you out of sight and the cause in shambles, people are content to forget you and yours. I suspect Draco might fight for you, at some point, but it could take years before he's powerful enough. No, there will be no trial, Lucius." He didn't bother to offer sympathy or condolences either, or to apologize for a system he no longer believed in.

Lucius was too shocked to say anything for a long while, digesting this final insult, the last step meant to break him entirely. Maybe it would even succeed. His eyes turned a stormy gray, then went opaque, showing nothing to the outside world. It was a trick Severus was familiar with, had practiced himself for many years. He sat down on the bed absently, as far away from Lucius as was possible. The masks were almost off now, both of them too strained to keep them. With something very near breathlessness, Severus waited to see the real Lucius.

He never did. The blond man stood up abruptly. "Very well." His voice was steady but tense, "You've told me. It was very nice of you. You can leave now."

It was Severus' turn to be stunned into silence. Was that it? The only visit he was going to get, probably ever, and Lucius was kicking him out?

"I said get out, Sev."

And he wants to comfort him, wants to touch him, longs for it like the youth he was once, several lifetimes ago. But he doesn't, because they are both old men now, and past such folly. Instead, he catches the other man eyes.

A mistake. A bad one.

They reach for each other simultaneously, tearing, pulling, dragging themselves into forgetfulness, trying to reach a past long gone. The move silently, bodies answering each other's needs perfectly, with an unspoken understanding. They've both changed, yet still know each other on a level so fundamental they don't even need to reacquaint themselves. They simply move in deep instinctive need of two lost souls searching for something resembling human touch.

There is neither tenderness nor affection in their joining. Raw emotion, raw pain, proof that, after all the years, all the horrors, they can still feel. The loving is twisted, messy, alternating domination like a ferris wheel, just as brightly burning, just as quickly grinding to a halt. It leaves them sore, drained, tangled together in a heap of torn robes and quivering muscles on a bed normally too small for a single grown man.

"Well," Lucius said after a while, trying to move his foot and discovering that he couldn't, "If I ever needed more proof that I'm getting old…"

"We both have ample proof of that." Snape groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows, "Merlin, Lucius, this bed is terrible."

"Yes, it is. Get off it, now." Some spark of mischief, rekindled by this reminder of happier, younger times, prompted Lucius to simply shove Severus off the bed, ignoring his curses as he hit the floor hard.

"You bastard." Snape said, but rather more fondly than usual. "I missed you."

"I missed you." Lucius admitted as well, "Not for a while after…But Narcissa can really get very tiresome after a time, and, well, she's a woman, which simply added complications."

"You seem to have handled her perfectly well." Severus replied acerbically.

Lucius started to smile, but his expression froze and he found something on the bed. "Severus." His voice was unnaturally calm and serene, as it always was at his most dangerous, "What is this?"

Severus looked at the tiny bottle held between Lucius' thumb and forefinger, and felt his blood freeze. He wasn't supposed to find that! Must have fallen out of his pocket when- but what was done was done. He swallowed before answering. "My strongest, fastest, least painful poison. It's for you, if you want it."

He waited breathlessly for Lucius to react, to talk, to do _something_. His former lover's hand was shaking, his lips clenched and bloodless. When he finally exploded, it was almost too fast to see. In one smooth move the bottle was slammed against the wall, thick green liquid and shards of glass spattered on the bare floor, and both Lucius' hands were locked around Snape's throat, pinning him to the floor. Lucius couldn't even speak through his rage, simply holding the younger man down and shaking him. At last, he found words, spitting them out like bullets. "How dare you? How could you? How-" His grip slackened and he sank back against the bed, curling in on himself as much as a man of his size could. Through the rising pain and panic of having his air cut off, Severus didn't realize for a moment that Lucius was crying.

He froze again. In the twenty-five years he'd know the man, as friend, lover, enemy, he'd never seen him cry. But in the years of the war, as head of house, as fighter, his body knew the routine even when his mind short-circuited. He moved forward on his hands and knees to wrap his arms around Lucius, wondering as he did at how warm and alive he felt. Severus was used to cold bodies, cold beds, cold emotions. This was heat, the kind he hadn't felt in nearly twenty years. "There, there…" He muttered ineffectually, then settled for supplying contact and kisses until Lucius pushed him away.

The wizard wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his sleeve being too short, and eyed Severus with something closely resembling the malice he'd felt right the Incident with Voldemort. How dare this man, this person he hated and loved and hated, come here and in one fell swoop give him everything he wanted? Take everything away? He glared at Severus through eyes that were still wet. "Get out."

"Alright." Severus pulled himself to his feet, settled his robes around him and turned to the door. Lucius stopped him by grabbing onto the tail of his robe.

"Wait." He turned again, looked down, "Why, Severus?"

"It's what I would've wanted, in your situation. What I thought you'd want."

The response, when it came, was nearly inaudible, "It is."

"I know." Severus sat down on the bed again. "I know you." He pulled Lucius up to the bed by his arm and pulled him close, like they used to do long ago. "I'm sorry."

"So am I. I hurt you." Lucius looked at the red fingerprints on Severus' neck. The potions master shrugged,

"No more than I hurt you. Let's face it, Malfoy, there's been quite a bit of 'hurt', throughout the years."

"True." Lucius nodded. "Shame it's too late to open a new page."

"The last page can have a happy ending." Severus said softly. Lucius shot him a small glare.

"We are both too old for romance, Sev, and too sad. Besides," He choked slightly, "I went and broke the bottle."

"Yes," Sev's heart was breaking all over again.

"You know this cell is monitored," Lucius said before Snape could complete his sentence, "If they saw you giving me anything, let alone a poison…"

"They did." Severus sighed. "I suppose they're waiting to see if I'd kill you, or you'd kill me. They're better off either way. I'll probably be arrested, lose my Master's status." He said it as if it didn't matter, which it really didn't, now. Lucius shook his head angrily.

"That's not fair, Sev."

"Since when has 'fair' been a part of our lives, Lucius? You shame Slytherin. We know when we've lost, and I knew what I was doing when I came in here. I'm not going back to Hogwarts anyway. I'm done with teaching, and I'm done with Albus and his bunch. I can finally be my own man, Lucius." He said with more feeling than he usually expressed, then stopped, "I just wish you could join me."

"I don't. There's nothing left for me outside." Lucius punched the bed, "And I went. And broke. The ruddy. Bottle!"

"Yes." Severus could finally complete the sentence he had begun earlier, "But I brought two."

Lucius gasped like a fish, completely astounded. Severus nearly smiled, but it was more like a grimace of pain, "I know you too well, Lucius."

"You brought two?" Lucius couldn't believe it. It was as close as he could get to freedom.

"Yes. If you still want it."

"Yes. Before I change my mind, Sev, please." He said urgently. He had to be done with it before his nerve broke, before the guards burst in, before Severus came to his senses and stopped him. He looked at the bottle like a dying man in an oasis. "No more pain?"

"Nothing." Severus promised, his voice breaking, "You just, fall asleep." His own eyes were far too bright now, "I wish I could do more…I wish-"

"Hush." Lucius kissed him gently on the lips, a chaste, simple kiss, "You've done everything." Severus managed only a choked cry of alarm as Lucius opened the bottle and tipped its contents into his mouth. He then lay back on the bed and folded his arms, feeling the cold spread of the poison through his system. "Thank you, Severus." He didn't bother to profess his love- it wasn't who they were. Nor did Severus do anything dramatic. With trembling hands he fixed the covers, looked down on his lover one last time. He kisses his own fingers and pressed them against the already breathless, cooling lips. Fast acting, indeed.

"Goodbye."

He picked up his wand, lost in the scuffle, and left the cell, letting the door clang shut behind him. Nobody stopped him on the way out of the ministry. No aurors came running to accuse him of murder. He nearly laughed- this was the furthest thing he'd ever done from murder- but couldn't. There was a vast empty spot where he imagined what was left of his heart had been.

He didn't trust himself enough to Apparate home. Taking the train out of London the Muggle way, or meeting up with other wizards would be too painful, and a broom would be too easy to 'accidentally' fall out of. Fortunately, he could still afford a one-way portkey, just this once.

He reached his house, a small place he could afford now, after his family started talking to him again. His bags were still packed. There were two bottles on the table- one holding pink liquid, the other a thick, dark green.

Severus sat in his most comfortable armchair in front of a roaring fire with his wand on his lap and waited.

It was over. Let them come.


End file.
